Five Times Peeta's Heart Stopped
by Young.FOOLS
Summary: ...and one time it jumped for joy. Katniss had broken Peeta too many times to count, but in the end? He got the girl. And that's all that matters. Oneshot, Peeta's POV.


**Hey ****guys! ****Yeah, ****you ****probably ****were ****thinking:**** "****Yes! ****It****'****s ****a ****new ****chapter ****for ****Periculum!****" **

**Yeah, ****no...not ****really. ****Sorry ****guys. ****We****'****re ****working ****on ****that. ****We ****hope ****this ****makes ****up ****for ****our ****prolonged ****hiatus.**

**Anyways, this is basically just 6 scenes from the series in Peeta's POV. Some of them are kind of angsty, but since Aurora doesn't really enjoy angst, we toned it down a bit. Hope you enjoy it!**

**Disclaimer: No...just...no.**

_The five times Peeta's heart stopped_

_...and the one time it jumped for joy._

* * *

><p>I:<br>I keep the sad, lovestruck look on my face as we exit the stage, right after I announced to all of Panem that I, Peeta Mellark, love Katniss Everdeen. And then it all sinks in.

_She __knows. __She __knows I l__ove __her. __And __so __does __the __rest __of __the __world._ My eyes quickly seek out Katniss. But I'm too late and scramble into a elevator without her in it.

On the way up, I try to ignore the death glares of the other tributes. _It__'__s __not __my __fault __my __interview __is __more __memorable __than __yours. _I think smugly at them. Then I slightly sag. Because I'm already becoming someone I'm not. Deceiving people, hating them just because they're against me. It's not me.

But putting the life of someone else that I care about dearly above mine is like me. As long as I keep sight of my goal: saving Katniss, I'm still me. I'm still sweet innocent Peeta Mellark. The lovesick distraught boy who has to go fight to the death against his lover.

Maybe she loves me back. Well, maybe not love, but perhaps she "likes" me. I would be able to live with that. A flame bursts up in my chest making me feel elated. But it quickly diminishes as I remember the real purpose of exposing my love. So that she can live. And therefore I can die.

She has so much more to live for. A family that loves her, needs her, survives because of her. Killing Katniss would mean killing 2 other innocent people as well. However, the Hunger Games are all about innocent people being slaughtered anyways. But there's no need for more.

And me? They wouldn't miss me much at the bakery. My 2 brothers are going to get married soon and take over the bakery. My father would be sad, but he would eventually get over it. After all, he has 2 other sons. My mother wouldn't care. I'm sure she wouldn't. She only married my father for the money. And she only keeps us around so that she doesn't have to do any work.

Katniss is valuable in District 12. Nobody can fill her place. But I'm easily replaceable.

There's no real way for us to be together, anyways. It's impractical and is going to get Katniss and I killed. That can't happen. The Games only have 1 winner. Always. No exceptions. We can't both win and come out of this together. The Capitol's too cruel for that.

Even without the threat of the Games looming in our faces, Katniss would never be with me. She's got Gale. Perfect Gale Hawthorne. Perfectly handsome and charming, judging from the gossip from the girls around school. He's clearly got his eyes set on Katniss. There is no way she would have picked me. She probably didn't even know me as more than just the baker's son before the reaping.

But that doesn't matter. Because we're in the Games now. There is no going back. She knows I love her. I've blatantly exposed my feelings to all of Panem. Now the question is: what does she feel?

There is very little chance that she returns my feelings, as I've already proven to myself time and time again. But I can't diminish the tiny bit of hope spluttering in my chest. If Katniss could every love me back...I would die happy.

I hear the elevator doors close again. I'm finally alone in the elevator. I watch as the numbers travel up to twelve.

_10_

_She __twirls __around, __her __dress __catching __the __light __and __bursting __into __flame. __She __giggles, __the __first __carefree __sound __I__'__ve __heard __from __her. __I __stare __at __her, __thinking __about __how __beautiful __she __is __when __she __isn__'__t __scowling._

_11_

I flash back to a few minutes ago when I was still on that goddamn stage.

_She __blushes __and __ducks __her __head __down. __Is __she __acting? __Or __does __she act__ually __feel __something? _My heart almost bursts open. My insides feel all warm and fuzzy. A reaction like that means something. It has to...

_12_

I step out.

...And I'm slammed into a urn. It shatters, and I feel a sharp pain in my hands.

What just happened? As my mind registers the pain in my hands, I look up. My eyes meet a pair of grey eyes, and all my previous fuzzy feeling flow right out of me, along with the blood in my hands.

Because nothing hurts more than looking into Katniss's cold grey eyes. No warmth is contained in them.  
>My heart shrinks and shrivels inside of me. I feel no warmth anymore. Everything's cold.<p>

**~o~**

II:

I knew this moment was coming. I knew it from the moment she got an eleven at the Training Center. I knew it from the moment Haymitch told me I had to make an alliance with the Careers. I knew from the moment I killed that District Four boy to get in with the Careers. Even before those poisonous words left Cato's lips, I knew.

I knew that there was only so much time before the Careers found Katniss.

_The __audience __must __think __I__'__m __a __monster_, I think as I trudge through the woods behind the rest of them. Who's going to contradict them? I've _killed_ two people so far. The second one would have probably died anyways, without me, but still. I've got the blood of two lives on my hands.

The only reason I'm still doing this is because I don't want Katniss's blood staining anyone else's.

"What's taking you so long, Lover Boy?" Clove jeers at me. "If you want to stay with us, you've got to keep up. We don't want you bringing us down."

My body goes cold as I register the hidden threat in her words. _If __we __think __you__'__ll __bring __us __down, __we__'__ll __kill __you. _I can't help it though. I got really bad burns on my feet, and every step sends arrows of pain up my legs.

_Arrows._ Everything reminds me of Katniss these days.

I was just glad that we haven't found her yet. That would be too soon. I'm already sickened by myself. The Games have gone so fast. It's only the third day, and I've already become temporary allies with the ruthless Careers, and I'm already responsible for two people's deaths. I don't think I could handle seeing Katniss just yet.

I do try to up my pace a bit though. I need to stay on their good side. Pushing my pain aside, I force myself to take longer strides.

Inside though, I'm partially glad that I'm with them. Being part of the Career pack means safety and security. With everything they managed to get from the Cornucopia, there were some antibiotics so our burns wouldn't get infected. There was water. There was food. No, I wouldn't be dying of thirst or hunger any time soon. There's the security aspect too. No sane tribute would dare challenge the entire Career pack. There's probably no alliance greater yet, so attacking us would be akin to suicide. Because we seem to have this force field around us, we can afford to be loud. We're not making any effort whatsoever to be quiet.

Every now and then though, we do stop, just to listen. See if anyone's nearby. See if there's any convenient kills nearby. It sickens me, but that's the character I've got to play these days. Ruthless. Out for the kill.

We continue to walk for a few more minutes when we have to stop for a bit, to listen, but also to catch our breath. The fire earlier took it's toll on all of us, and we're a coughing, wheezing mess.

Just then, we hear some rustling in the trees. We quickly go after it, hoping it might be some animal we can hunt for, or better yet, in Cato's opinion, another tribute. I hope desperately that it's not though. I don't think I can handle watching another person die yet.

And..._Please __don__'__t __let __it __be __Katniss,_ I think fervently.

I push those thoughts out of my head though, and work with the Careers to close in on whatever-_whomever-_made the noise. I have to admit, we're efficient. Calling out to each other in our raspy voices, moving in sync...it's like one, deadly ballet dance.

_Don't let it be Katniss, please, not Katniss._

I can feel it when we've closed in our target. We're brutally good hunters, cooperating in a pack. I remember once, in science class, we learned about an ancient animal called Lion, back in the Old World. They hunted in packs. We're just like them. _Lions_.

A few seconds later, we break through some foliage into a clump of trees. There's a little tree in front of us. My heart skitters to a stop, and when it picks up it's unnaturally fast. My eyes register what's in the tree: it's Katniss, and her eyes hold nothing but pure venom.

**~o~**

III:

Katniss and I step out of the train, hand in hand. We don't speak, but that's okay. I'm too busy reveling in the perfection of my life at this moment. We're both alive and Katniss loves me. I'm struck by how peaceful this is. Nothing's ever been this great. But just walking with Katniss on this dusty path just makes me feel like all my worries are gone. Everything's perfect.

I see a bunch of wildflowers. I let go of Katniss's hand and quickly gather a bundle to present to her.

It's then that I notice her facial expression. She is trying to look happy, but honestly, Katniss cannot act. She wears her heart proudly on her sleeve. I love her for that.

But right now she looks troubled. Confused. The exact opposite of what I was feeling moments ago.

I quickly ask her what is bothering her.

"Nothing," she answers unconvincingly. We're still walking, but all my focus is on her. I spy Haymitch just before he reaches us.

He puts a hand on Katniss's shoulder.

"Great job, you two. Just keep it up in the district until the cameras are gone. We should be okay," he says solemnly. My mind instantly clouds with confusion. _What?_ I think. What's going on? I glance at Katniss. She's avoiding my eyes. My stomach drops.

How could she keep something from me? Especially after all we've been through I thought...

That's not important right now.

"What's he mean?" I try to ask gently, but it comes out more urgent.

"It's the Capitol. They didn't like our stunt with the berries," Katniss gets out. I voice my ongoing confusion.

"It seemed too rebellious. So, Haymitch has been coaching me the last few days. So I didn't make it worse," she explains, not really clearing anything up.

"Coaching you? But not me," I question, slightly angry. It doesn't make sense. What can I do that Katniss can't? Well, act...but we don't have an audience...do we?

"He knew you were smart enough to get it right." Get _what_ right?

Suddenly I'm furious. I know what this all was. An act. A stunt. I guess I was wrong about saying Katniss couldn't act. No, she can act alright. In fact, she's a damn amazing actor.

"I didn't know there was anything to get right," I spit out. "So, what you're saying is, these last few days and then I guess...back in the arena...that was just some strategy you worked out."

"No. I mean, I couldn't even talk to Haymitch in the arena, could I?" Katniss is rushing over her words at this point, scrambling to get them out.

I want her to stop talking. Every word she says just feels like another stab into my heart. I should have known it all along...things were too good to be true-at least for a love story orchestrated for the Capitol.

"But you knew what he wanted you to do, didn't you?" She doesn't respond. "Katniss?" I prod. She still isn't answering, but that gives me what I need.

I drop her hand and she takes a step back, almost defensively.

"It was all for the Games." My voice sounds hollow, lifeless. "How you acted. How you _loved_ me."

"Not all of it," she protests. Her hands are shaking. I can feel myself starting to shake too. _Please,__please__stop__making__excuses,_I think to myself. Because everything she says is making this worse.

No matter how stupid and lovesick I must seem to everyone though, no matter how naive, I still have to know the truth.

"Then how much?" I demand. "No, forget that. I guess the real question is what's going to be left when we get home?" My heart is laying flat on the ground now. She can either stomp on it and crush it or accept it.

"I don't know!" she says pleadingly. "The closer we get to District 12, the more confused I get." I wait for more. My ideal explanation doesn't come.

"Well, let me know when you work it out." My voice is distraught, filled with pain. But I don't care. She already knows how I feel. But it doesn't matter. Because she never loved me.

I leave, my heart left with Katniss, being crushed in her hands just like my flowers are.

**~o~**

IV:

I was standing with Effie, Haymitch and Portia, waiting by the elevator for Katniss and Cinna to come down. It's time for interviews again. Strangely enough, I'm not nervous. I mean, I never _have_ been nervous about speaking in front of a crowd, but somehow, I'm feeling more at ease today than I did last year.

Maybe it's because I know that Katniss and I have got the audience wrapped around our fingers.

There's nothing the Capitol likes more than a melodramatic, doomed love story. It's especially heart wrenching this year, in my opinion, because now, she's my fiancee. The wedding was all planned out, the dress chosen...and now we've got to kill each other.

Capitol citizens may adore love stories, but President Snow only wants to cruelly kill us, starting from the inside before forcing either Katniss or me to finish the job. Being so supportive of our wedding only made it all the more painful when he twisted the knife.

Sometimes, I suspect that Cinna and Portia are just pawns in Snow's elaborate scheme to torture Katniss and I into oblivion. Our prep teams aren't cruel enough to make us dress in our wedding attire. This has to be Snow's doing. I bet they were forced to do it, just like Katniss and I were forced to be in love. Although Katniss was the only one really _forced_, in the traditional sense of the term...

I'm wearing a tuxedo with white gloves. Gloves covering hands that President Snow wants to kill Katniss...I won't let it happen though. Her love for me might have all just been an act for the cameras, and act for the sponsors, but mine was real. Haymitch and my prep team have always praised me on how genuine I look in front of the cameras, but what they don't realize is that I'm not even trying. I don't need to try to be in love with Katniss, because I already am in love with her. So, desperately, in love.

It partly feels painful to be wearing our wedding clothes today, because it just serves to remind us of what we can never have. Katniss loving me, Katniss hating me...it still won't change the fact that there can only be one survivor of the Quarter Quell, and this year, the odds are most definitely _not_ in our favour. We'll never have the chance to get married, or maybe even start a family.

My angsty thoughts are interrupted though, when Effie taps her foot irritatedly.

"Where are they?" she asks, "We're going to be late. I really do hope that the sponsors are still happy from last year, because no one will want to put money into a girl who doesn't even show up at the interviews. Then you'll both die...that wouldn't be a very convenient situation, would it?"

I ball up my hands into fists. Sometimes, if you look past Effie's flighty exterior, you can see into a part of her that truly cares about us, but sometimes it just seems like Katniss and I are nothing more than an inconvenience to her.

"Calm down there," Haymitch rough voice sounds in my ears. "She's just being ignorant. They must put some pretty funky stuff in the water here."

It's funny because even though he was only addressing me, Effie snaps her head around to glare at Haymitch. Her neck spins so fast in fact, that her wig nearly falls off her head and the false hairline is somewhat over top of her ears.

It does make a very funny scene, but I can't bring myself to laugh.

I can't laugh because I can't breathe. I can't breathe because I've just spotted Katniss coming down the hallway in her wedding gown. The hallway seems to mysteriously run out of air, and I almost feel like I'm choking. Everything in my peripheral vision vanishes, and all I see is Katniss.

Katniss, who looks like she's floating towards us. Katniss, and her rosy cheeks, her soft grey eyes...Katniss. Katniss, wearing the dress that she was supposed to wear on our _wedding __day_. A dress of white silk, laden with what must be thousands of pearls. A dress that's form fitting, and accentuates her thin waist. A dress that's got a slightly daring neckline, that leaves me thinking that if I tilt my head at _just __the __right __angle_, I'll be able to catch a glimpse of-nevermind. Forget I mentioned that, okay?

God, I don't deserve someone like her. Someone who looks as radiant, as ravishing, as _alive_ as she does. It takes every ounce of my self control to not grab her by one of those long sleeves and run away. To run away from all of the stupid games the Capitol's playing with us. I don't, of course. We wouldn't make if five miles before someone caught up to us, and when they did, there is no doubt in my mind that Snow's punishment would be severe.

Still. I don't think I've ever loved someone as much as I love Katniss in this moment. She literally takes my breath away.

**~o~**

V:

"What's going on down there, Katniss? Have they all joined hands? Taken a vow of nonviolence? Tossed the weapons in the sea in defiance of the Capitol?" Finnick asks Katniss once she slides down to the ground.

"No," she replies, looking slightly disappointed. As if she actually thought our hand holding game at the interviews the other night would have made a difference.

"No," Finnick reiterates. "Because whatever happened in the past is in the past. And no one in this arena was a victor by chance." He pauses, eyeing me. "Except maybe Peeta."

I can't really take offense to this, because it's true. Everyone in the arena here today is a victor because they fought to kill, because they put surviving above everything else. Obviously, I've killed before, almost heartlessly, but I'd always try to forge some sort of alliance first. Excluding, of course, the time I was with the Careers. To every other victor here though, alliances are a waste of time unless they think they'd have a better chance of surviving with their allies.

Me? I'd ally with someone just for the hell of it, just because I don't want to kill them—right away, at least.

Katniss and Finnick aren't really like that. They fight to kill. Whatever keeps them alive. I guess I'm just a bit too weak hearted to do that.

There seems to be a palpable tension between Katniss and Finnick at the moment though. They seem to be sizing each other up, and I can almost see the gears turning in their heads while try try to formulate some kind of plan. Not a plan to help us find water or food or anything like that though.

Remember what I said about killing? Yeah.

I step between them before anything gets messy. "So how many are dead?" I ask deliberately, trying to dispel some of the tension. _C__'__mon __guys, __we__'__re __all __friends __here...so __far,_ I think to myself, hoping that they might catch some of my positive brainwaves. That's the Hunger Games. Cheer yourself up by thinking about how many people are dead.

It doesn't matter though, because my plan doesn't really work. Katniss seems to be glaring daggers at me. Like I foiled her foolproof plan to kill Finnick, one of our most valuable allies here. Sometimes, I honestly think that women's brains are a bit backwards. But hey, maybe it's just because she's "pregnant".

Eventually Katniss answers me though, probably because she realized that like always, I'm the rational person in the situation.

"Hard to say," she answers. "At least six, I think. And they're still fighting."

_Hmmm...not __bad,_I think. See, its not like I get all mushy when people die. I just don't like to be the one doing the killing. It _is_ a good thing that there are so many out of our way in just these first few hours, because now we can focus on more important things.

"Let's keep moving," I say, taking charge. "We need water." Unlike the Games last year, when the Careers managed to get their hands on some water, the only supplies at the Cornucopia were weapons. Not too helpful in our situation, because you need to make sure _you_ don't die of dehydration before you think about killing anyone _else_ though.

"Better find some soon," Finnick says. "We need to be undercover when the others come hunting us tonight." That makes sense to me. When I was with the Careers last year, I learned that some of the most effective hunting is done at night, when you catch your victim off guard. Damn. I learned a lot when I was with them, didn't I?

We begin to plow through the strange forest, me with my knife and Katniss with her bow and arrow. We're thirsty, but the thought of finally finding water makes us push through it.

There's a thick tangle of vines in front of us, blocking our path. I've just swung out my knife to hack through it, when the world ceases to exist.

_Swirling blackness...a misty corridor, filled with fog, a labyrinth. Never ending...dark...pain...slipping...at least I'm dying honorably. I hope I've shown the Capitol that they don't own me...damn force field._

_A __pleasant __sensation. __Brightness __in __a __sea __of __finality. __It__'__s __on __my __lips...hmmm...I __could __just __stay __like __this _forever..._it __makes __my __heart __race...such __an __exhilarating __feeling..._

...Wait. My pulse? I'm not dead? What's that feeling? I like it...so pleasurable...feels just like sinking into a soft feather bed...maybe it's about time I woke up.

I cough a bit and try to sit up. It's kind of a struggle though and I'm disappointed when the enjoyable feeling stops. Something hits me, and calls my name out, brushing some hair from my face.

My eyes open slowly and I see Katniss's face, the most beautiful thing someone coming back from the dead could see, in my opinion.

Then I see Finnick. Standing beside Katniss. Wiping his mouth. _Damn...I__'__m __severely __disturbed __right __about __now._

Pushing all thoughts of how I wanted to throw up, I meet her eyes, and decide to warn her before anyone else gets hurt.

"Careful," I say weakly. "There's a force field ahead."

* * *

><p>I:<p>

I'm just lying there, at Katniss' feet, trying to clear my mind when Katniss' voice breaks through the silence.

"Have you eaten?" I shake my head slightly. I hear the sound of a can opening and sit up to accept the can of chicken and rice soup she hands me. I unceremoniously dump the soup down my throat, just swallowing everything and not bothering to chew.

"Peeta, when you asked about what happened to Darius and Lavinia, and Boggs told you it was real, you said you thought so. Because there was nothing shiny about it. What did you mean?"

"Oh. I don't know exactly how to explain it." Almost all my memories are shiny, although all of them contain some sort of truth in them. After all, the capitol just twisted my memories and made a new version of them. "In the beginning," I start, slowly trying to explain my thoughts, my memories. "everything was just complete confusion. Now I can sort certain things out. I think there's a pattern emerging. The memories they altered with the tracker jacker venom have this strange quality about them. Like they're too intense or the images aren't stable." I think back to our first games, digging out the memory of Katniss dropping the tracker jacker nest on the Careers. "You remember what it was like when we were stung?"

Katniss sticks out her bottom lip, thinking. My heart pangs a little. I furrow my eyebrows in confusion.

"Trees shattered. There were giant colored butterflies. I fell in a pit of orange bubbles." She wrinkles her nose. "Shiny orange bubbles."

"Right. But nothing about Darius or Lavinia was like that. I don't think they'd given me any venom yet." Everything in the Capitol was confusing. I don't remember when they started injecting me with the venom. I only remember hazy thoughts and dreams of Katniss as a mutt, Katniss dropping the tracker jacker nest except all the tracker jackers went after me, Katniss smiling wickedly, with pointed teeth life a wolf's...Katniss this, Katniss that...

Her voice brought me back.

"Well, that's good, isn't it? If you can separate the two, then you can figure out what's true." Way to state the obvious. The problem is I can't...it's hard. It gives me a headache, makes the blood rush to my head.

"Yes. And if I could grow wings, I could fly. Only people can't grow wings." I think back to one particular memory. One of Katniss. As a mockingjay. During the interviews of the Quarter Quell. Her dress smoking and then Katniss turning into a mockingjay. Then comes the shiny part. _She __launches __herself __towards __me __shouting __horrible __words-_no.

_Her __claws __stretch __out, __reaching __for __my __face_-No

_She __screams __and __shrieks, __laughing __at __me-_NO

I don't need to relive what's false. But I ask just in case. "Real or not real?"

"Real. But people don't need wings to survive."

"Mockingjays do." I slurp down the rest of my soup and hand the can back to Katniss.

I watch as Katniss studies me, a concerned look on her face. It's times like these that I'm most confused. The Katniss before me is not the one in my memories. Katniss shouldn't care. She's a mutt. But I've learned that she's not actually.

I can't let myself dwell on that. Not right now at least. I'm exhausted and I'll need my strength if Iwant to be able to restrain myself from trying to kill Katniss if anything triggers that reflex tomorrow.

I don't understand why they don't just kill me. I'm useless and a danger. The Capitol did program me to hate Katniss. To kill her.  
>I should just die. The old version of me definitely would have already killed himself. Because apparently he loved the girl that's in front of me right now. He would have done anything to save her. To keep her out of danger. And I'm a danger right now.<p>

I refer to myself as 2 people now. Venom-Induced Mutt and Peeta. I'm Venom-Induced Mutt right now. As Johanna said, the Capitol's replaced me with a evil- mutt version of myself.

Sometimes I'm Peeta. The old me. Like when I was baking that cake for Annie and Finnick's wedding. It calmed me. I could feel it. Maybe it's because baking was such a big part of my old life...

_My old life._

Normal people only have one life. I feel like I've lived for hundreds of years. Hundreds of years full of pain and confusion.

Yet I'm only 17, possible 18. I don't know anymore.

_I __hate __the __Capitol._ My brain hurts as I think this. It goes against everything that the President Snow forced into my mind. But it's a sign that I'm getting better. Not much, though. Nothing to celebrate about.

Even now, I'm holding myself back from launching myself across the room and strangling Katniss to death. My brain thinks one thing and my body thinks another.

It's getting easier, though. I'm not holding back nearly as much as I had to the second time I saw her.

"There's still time. You should sleep," Katniss says softly. I lay back, obeying her. Not wanting my thoughts to take over again, like they just did, I stare at the need on one of the dials as it moves.

I feel a light touch on my forehead, brushing my hair back. I freeze, wondering what she's doing. In my memories, every time Katniss touches me, she's trying to hurt me. Or trying to get me to trust her and then kill an unsuspecting me later on.

This is new. She hasn't touched me since I came back.

She's still smoothing back my hair, her fingers calming my pounding head. It feels nice.

My heart aches again.

I don't know why that happens. I thought I hated Katniss. Well, Peeta doesn't hate Katniss. But _I__'__m_ supposed to.

I have a list of words that describe what Katniss was to me now and in my old life.

Ally. Friend. Lover. Victor. Enemy. Fiancée. Target. Mutt. Neighbor. Hunter. Tribute.

Sometimes I feel like I want her to be my friend, my lover, my neighbor. I don't understand why. I think the old Peeta's still trying to claw his way through my brain. I hope he succeeds. Apparently I was lot happier back then than I am now.

I ask a question that has been bothering me since I got back from the Capitol.

"You're still trying to protect me. Real or not real."

"Real. Because that's what you and I do. Protect each other." Her hand movements lull me slowly to sleep.

_Mutts are stomping towards me. Hissing her name. Katniss. It's like a catchy tune that you can't get out of your head. Her name._

_She's leading them. Her in mutt form. _

"_Katniss!" I plead over and over. I'm saying her name too, my voice blending with those of the mutts._

_Katniss. _

_Katniss._

"Katniss!" I gasp out, my eyes wide with alarm. I can hear the mutts now. Them chanting her name. I remember watching as the Capitol taught those mutts to track her down. To kill her.

And suddenly Peeta's back.

"Katniss! Get out of here!" The image of the mutts from my dream are clouding my vision.

"Why? What's making that sound?" Why isn't she listening to me?

"I don't know. Only that it has to kill you." She has to freaking get _out!_ "Run! Get out! Go!"

"Whatever it is, it's after me. It might be a good time to split up." No. No way. I'm about to voice my opinion, but Jackson beats me to it.

"But we're your guard."

"And your crew," says Cressida. God, we're wasting time!

"I'm not leaving you," Gale says. For once I agree with him.

Katniss agrees. But she makes Finnick give one of his guns to Castor, arms Pollux, Messalla and Cressida, and loads a real cartridge into my gun. I hope I don't kill her with it.

I mindlessly follow Katniss through the tunnels, though my ears are alert for any mutt-like sounds.

We're being too loud, even I can tell. Splashing through muddy water (is that even water?) and banging our guns against the pipes.

My ears suddenly pick up the sounds of screams. I recognize them and I have to push back the memory of Darius and Lavinia being tortured.

"Avoxes," I tell them. "That's what Darius sounded like when they tortured him."

"The mutts must have found them," says Cressida.

"So they're not just after Katniss," says Leeg 1. But they'll still kill her.

"They'll probably kill anyone. It's just that they won't stop until they get to her." Real positive Gale.

"Let me go on alone. Lead them off. I'll transfer the Holo to Jackson. The rest of you can finish the mission." I want to scream at Katniss. We're wasting time.

"No one's going to agree to that!" Well said Jackson.

"We're wasting time!" says Finnick. Duh.

Suddenly I notice that the screaming has stopped. But something else has started up again.

"Listen," I whisper.

"_Katniss.__" _They're below us and behind us.

We start running.

We reach some steps leading down when Katniss starts gagging.

"Masks on!" Jackson orders. But there is no need for masks. Katniss is just throwing up. For no apparent reason.

I want to help, but I can feel myself slowly losing control. I'm fighting it, though. I refuse to become a mindless mutt again.

The next few minutes are a blur. I remember Messalla trapped in a beam of light, flesh melting off of him. I remember telling everyone that we have to move on, that we can't help him.

I remember seeing the mutts for the first time. Nasty naked white creatures that are four-limbed and about the size of a full grown human with long reptilian tails, arched backs and heads that jut forward. It almost brings me over the edge.

Katniss asks Pollux what the quickest way aboveground is. But then she realizes that Jackson and Leeg One are missing. But they stayed back to hold the mutts back.

"What?" she yells.

"Don't waste their lives, Katniss. It's too late for them. Look!" Homes says. We look and see that the mutts are slithering onto a ledge.

"Stand back!" Gale shouts. He shoots an explosive arrow at the bridge. The rest sinks into bubbles. Everyone starts firing at the mutts. The weapons meet there mark, but each time one falls, another replaces it. There are too many.

I notice Katniss not responding. I start shouting at her. I can't quite make out what I'm shouting...just something, anything that will make that blank look go away. Jackson picks her up and shoves her against the ladder.

We all start climbing up. We reach a platform and Katniss pulls me up.

There's screams from below. _Human __and __mutt __screams_, I think.

And then Peeta breaks.

_Kill__her. __Kill __Katniss. __She__'__s __a __mutt. __She __hates __you. __What __has __she __ever __done __for __you? _A voice in my head is whispering. I sink against a wall, curling around myself.

_Think __about __your __family. __How __she __killed __them. __She __caused __the __bombing __in __Twelve. __She __made __your __parents __die. __Kill __her. __Kill __all __of __them._

"Peeta." I focus on her voice. Peeta's almost gone. I'm turning into Venom-Induced Mutt again. I can't...

"Peeta?" Her voice sounds so innocent. _She__'__s __luring y__ou __into __a __trap. __She__'__s __the __one __who __first __poisoned __you. __She __didn__'__t __even __say __she w__as __sorry._

"Leave me," I choke out. Peeta wouldn't want Katniss to die. And I'm about to kill her. She needs to get away. "I can't hang on." I know what I must look like. An insane animal. Pupils dilated, tense from restraining myself.

_Kill __her. __Before __she __kills __you._

"Yes. You can!" she pleads with me.

_Kill __her. __KILL __HER!_

I find the energy to shake my head tightly.

"I'm losing it. I'll go mad. Like them."

_Kill __her a__lready! __What __are __you __waiting __for? __For __her __to __announce __her __undying __love __for __you? __She __broke __your __heart! __She__'__s __cruel, __manipulative. __She __never __cared __about __you. __She __used __you. __She __was __going __to __kill __you. __Kill __her._

_Kill-_

I feel pressure on my lips. She's kissing me. Because I'm hurt. Because that's how Katniss works. I feel my heart burst open.  
>"Don't let him take you from me." <em>I <em>_won__'__t __Katniss. __I __promise. __I __won__'__t._

I gasp something out. I'm not quite sure what. I'm holding back the flashbacks that will overcome me soon. Those of Katniss ripping out my throat, turning into a mutt.

"Stay with me."

She sounds like an angel.

"Always."

And Peeta's back

* * *

><p><strong>AN: SQUEEE! Hunger Games trailer! Peeta! Gale! Cato! EEEEEEE! YAYZUMS!<strong>

**...That was strange. Just a quick note: Alyssa wrote the the urn scene, the wildflower scene, and the last scene (SO FREAKING LONG!). She also wrote the first author's note and the SUMMARY! (Gah, it took so long to make it fit the limit. *sigh*.) Aurora wrote the Career scene, the wedding dress scene, and the force field scene. She also wrote this bottom, slightly unhinged author's note. Anyways, we hope you liked it! R&R please!**

**Peeta: Yeah. Review. For how stupid they made me seem, the least you can do is review...**


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